Far, far away where the swallows fly when we have winter,
there lived a King who had eleven sons and one daughter, Elisa.
The eleven brothers, Princes all, each went to school with a star
at his breast and a sword at his side. They wrote with pencils of
diamond upon golden slates, and could say their lesson by heart
just as easily as they could read it from the book. You could
tell at a glance how princely they were. Their sister, Elisa, sat
on a little footstool of flawless glass. She had a picture book
that had cost half a kingdom. Oh, the children had a very fine
time, but it did not last forever.

Their father, who was King over the whole country,
married a wicked Queen, who did not treat his poor children at
all well. They found that out the very first day. There was
feasting throughout the palace, and the children played at
entertaining guests. But instead of letting them have all the
cakes and baked apples that they used to get, their new step
mother gave them only some sand in a teacup, and told them to
make believe that it was a special treat.

The following week the Queen sent little Elisa to
live in the country with some peasants. And before long she had
made the King believe so many falsehoods about the poor Princes
that he took no further interest in them.

"Fly out into the world and make your own living,"
the wicked Queen told them. "Fly away like big birds without a
voice."

But she did not harm the Princes as much as she
meant to, for they turned into eleven magnificent white swans.
With a weird cry, they flew out of the palace window, across the
park into the woods.

It was so early in the morning that their sister,
Elisa, was still asleep when they flew over the peasant hut where
she was staying. They hovered over the roofs, craning and
twisting their long necks and flapping their wings, but nobody
saw them or heard them. They were forced to fly on, high up near
the clouds and far away into the wide world. They came down in a
vast, dark forest that stretched down to the shores of the
sea.

Poor little Elisa stayed in the peasant hut, and
played b 00 with a green leaf, for she had no other toy.
She made a little hole in the leaf and looked through it at the
sun. Through it she seemed to see her brothers' bright eyes, and
whenever the warm sunlight touched her cheek it reminded her of
all their kisses.

One day passed like all the others. When the wind
stirred the hedge roses outside the hut, it whispered to them,
could be prettier than you?" But the roses shook their heads and
answered, "Elisa!" And on Sunday, when the old woman sat in the
doorway reading the psalms, the wind fluttered through the pages
and said to the book, "Who could be more saintly than you?"
"Elisa," the book testified. What it and the roses said was
perfectly true.

Elisa was to go back home when she became fifteen
but, as soon as the Queen saw what a beautiful Princess she was,
the Queen felt spiteful and full of hatred toward her. She would
not have hesitated to turn her into a wild swan, like her
brothers, but she did not dare to do it just yet, because the
King wanted to see his daughter.

In the early morning, the Queen went to the
bathing place, which was made of white marble, furnished with
soft cushions and carpeted with the most splendid rugs. She took
three toads, kissed them, and said to the first:

"Squat on Elisa's head, when she bathes, so that
she will become as torpid as you are." To the second she said,
"Squat on her forehead, so that she will become as ugly as you
are, and her father won't recognize her." And to the third, she
whispered, "Lie against her heart, so that she will be cursed and
tormented by evil desires.

Thereupon the Queen dropped the three toads into
the clear water, which at once turned a greenish color. She
called Elisa, made her undress, and told her to enter the bath.
When Elisa went down into the water, one toad fastened himself to
her hair, another to her forehead, and the third against her
heart. But she did not seem to be aware of them, and when she
stood up three red poppies floated on the water. If the toads had
not been poisonous, and had not been kissed by the witch, they
would have been turned into red roses. But at least they had been
turned into flowers, by the mere touch of her head and heart. She
was too innocent and good for witchcraft to have power over
her.

When the evil Queen realized this, she rubbed
Elisa with walnut stain that turned her dark brown, smeared her
beautiful face with a vile ointment, and tousled her lovely hair.
No one could have recognized the beautiful Elisa, and when her
father saw her he was shocked. He said that this could not be his
daughter. No one knew her except the watchdog and the swallows,
and they were humble creatures who had nothing to say.

Poor Elisa cried and thought of her eleven
brothers, who were all away. Heavy-hearted, she stole away
from the palace and wandered all day long over fields and
marshes, till she came to the vast forest. She had no idea where
to turn. All she felt was her sorrow and her longing to be with
her brothers. Like herseIf, they must have been driven out into
the world, and she set her heart upon finding them. She had been
in the forest only a little while when night came on, and as she
had strayed from any sign of a path she said her prayers and lay
down on the soft moss, with her head pillowed against a stump.
All was quiet, the air was so mild, and hundreds of fireflies
glittered like a green fire in the grass and moss. When she
lightly brushed against a single branch, the shining insects
showered about her like falling stars.

She dreamed of her brothers all night long. They
were children again, playing together, writing with their diamond
pencils on their golden slates, and looking at her wonderful
picture book that had cost half a kingdom. But they no longer
scribbled sums and exercises as they used to do. No, they set
down their bold deeds and all that they had seen or heard.
Everything in the picture book came alive. The birds sang, and
the people strolled out of the book to talk with Elisa and her
brothers, but whenever she turned a page they immediately jumped
back into place, to keep the pictures in order.

When she awoke, the sun was already high. She
could not see it plainly, for the tall trees spread their tangled
branches above her, but the rays played above like a shimmering
golden gauze. There was a delightful fragrance of green foliage,
and the birds came near enough to have perched on her shoulder.
She heard the water splashing from many large springs, which all
flowed into a pool with the most beautiful sandy bottom. Although
it was hemmed in by a wall of thick bushes, there was one place
where the deer had made a path wide enough for Elisa to reach the
water. The pool was so clear that, if the wind had not stirred
the limbs and bushes, she might have supposed they were painted
on the bottom of the pool. For each leaf was clearly reflected,
whether the sun shone upon it or whether it grew in the
shade.

When Elisa saw her own face she was horrified to
find it so brown and ugly. But as soon as she wet her slender
hand, and rubbed her brow and her eyes, her fair skin showed
again. Then she laid aside her clothes and plunged into the fresh
water. In all the world there was no King's daughter as lovely as
Elisa. When she had dressed herself and plaited her long hair,
she went to the sparkling spring and drank from the hollow of her
hand. She wandered deeper into the woods without knowing whither
she went. She thought of her brothers, and she thought of the
good Lord, who she knew would not forsake her. He lets the wild
crab apples grow to feed the hungry, and he led her footsteps to
a tree with its branches bent down by the weight of their fruit.
Here she had her lunch. After she put props under the heavy
limbs, she went on into the depths of the forest. It was so quiet
that she heard her own footsteps and every dry leaf that rustled
underfoot. Not a bird was in sight, not a ray of the sun could
get through the big heavy branches, and the tall trees grew so
close together that when she looked straight ahead it seemed as
if a solid fence of lofty palings imprisoned her. She had never
known such solitude.

The night came on, pitch black. Not one firefly
glittered among the leaves as she despondently lay down to sleep.
Then it seemed to her that the branches parted overhead and the
Lord looked kindly down upon her, and little angels peeped out
from above His head and behind Him.

When she awoke the next morning she did not know
whether she had dreamed this, or whether it had really
happened.

A few steps farther on she met an old woman who
had a basket of berries and gave some of them to her. Elisa asked
if she had seen eleven Princes riding through the forest.

"No," the old woman said. "But yesterday I saw
eleven swans who wore golden crowns. They were swimming in the
river not far from here."

She led Elisa a little way to the top of a hill
which sloped down to a winding river. The trees on either bank
stretched their long leafy branches toward each other, and where
the stream was too wide for them to grow across it they had torn
their roots from the earth and leaned out over the water until
their branches met. Elisa told the old woman good-by, and
followed the river down to where it flowed into the great open
sea.

Before the young girl lay the whole beautiful sea,
but not a sail nor a single boat was in sight. How could she go
on? She looked at the countless pebbles on the beach, and saw
how round the water had worn them. Glass, iron ore, stones, all
that had been washed up, had been shaped by the water that was so
much softer than even her tender hand.

"It rolls on tirelessly, and that is the way it
makes such hard things smooth," she said. "I shall be just as
untiring. Thank you for your lesson, you clear rolling waves. My
heart tells me that some day you will carry me to my beloved
brothers."

Among the wet seaweed she found eleven white swan
feathers, which she collected in a sheaf. There were still drops
of water on them, but whether these were spray or tears no one
could say. It was very lonely along the shore but she did not
mind, for the sea was constantly changing. Indeed it showed more
changes in a few hours than an inland lake does in a whole year.
When the sky was black with threatening clouds, it was as if the
sea seemed to say, 'I can look threatening too." Then the wind
would blow and the waves would raise their white crests. But when
the wind died down and the clouds were red, the sea would look
like a rose petal.

Sometimes it showed white, and sometimes green,
but however calm it might seem there was always a gentle lapping
along the shore, where the waters rose and fell like the chest of
a child asleep.

Just at sunset, Elisa saw eleven white swans, with
golden crowns on their heads, fly toward the shore. As they flew,
one behind another, they looked like a white ribbon floating in
the air. Elisa climbed up and hid behind a bush on the steep
bank. The swans came down near her and flapped their magnificent
white wings.

As soon as the sun went down beyond the sea, the
swans threw off their feathers and there stood eleven handsome
Princes. They were her brothers, and, although they were greatly
altered, she knew in her heart that she could not be mistaken.
She cried aloud, and rushed into their arms, calling them each by
name. The Princes were so happy to see their little sister. And
they knew her at once, for all that she had grown tall and
lovely. They laughed, and they cried, and they soon realized how
cruelly their stepmother had treated them all.

"We brothers," said the eldest, "are forced to fly
about disguised as wild swans as long as the sun is in the
heavens, but when it goes down we take back our human form. So at
sunset we must always look about us for some firm foothold,
because if ever we were flying among the clouds at sunset we
would be dashed down to the earth.

"We do not live on this coast. Beyond the sea
there is another land as fair as this, but it lies far away and
we must cross the vast ocean to reach it. Along our course there
is not one island where we can pass the night, except one little
rock that rises from the middle of the sea. It is barely big
enough to hold us, however close together we stand, and if there
is a rough sea the waves wash over us. But still we thank God for
it.

"In our human forms we rest there during the
night, and without it we could never come back to our own dear
homeland. It takes two of the longest days of the year for our
journey. We are allowed to come back to our native land only once
a year, and we do not dare to stay longer than eleven days. As we
fly over this forest we can see the palace where our father lives
and where we were born. We can see the high tower of the church
where our mother lies buried. And here we feel that even the
trees and bushes are akin to us. Here the wild horses gallop
across the moors as we saw them in our childhood, and the
charcoal-burner sings the same old songs to which we used
to dance when we were children. Tbis is our homeland. It draws us
to it, and here, dear sister, we have found you again. We may
stay two days longer, and then we must fly across the sea to a
land which is fair enough, but not our own. How shall we take you
with us? For we have neither ship nor boat."

"How shall I set you free?" their sister asked,
and they talked on for most of the night, sparing only a few
hours for sleep.

In the morning Elisa was awakened by the rustling
of swans' wings overhead. Her brothers, once more
enchanted, wheeled above her in great circles until they were out
of sight. One of them, her youngest brother, stayed with her and
rested his head on her breast while she stroked his wings. They
spent the whole day together, and toward evening the others
returned. As soon as the sun went down they resumed their own
shape.

"Tomorrow," said one of her brothers, we must fly
away, and we dare not return until a whole year has passed. But
we cannot leave you like this. Have you courage enough to come
with us? My arm is strong enough to carry you through the forest,
so surely the wings of us all should be strong enough to bear you
across the sea." "Yes, take me with you," said Elisa.

They spent the entire night making a net of pliant
willow bark and tough rushes. They made it large and strong.
Elisa lay down upon it and, when the sun rose and her brothers
again became wild swans, they lifted the net in their bills and
flew high up toward the clouds with their beloved sister, who
still was fast asleep. As the sun shone straight into her face,
one of the swans flew over her head so as to shade her with his
wide wings.

They were far from the shore when she awoke. Elisa
thought she must still be dreaming, so strange did it seem to be
carried through the air, high over the sea. Beside her lay a
branch full of beautiful ripe berries, and a bundle of
sweet-tasting roots. Her youngest brother had gathered them
and put them there for her. She gave him a grateful smile. She
knew he must be the one who flew over her head to protect her
eyes from the sun.

They were so high that the first ship they sighted
looked like a gull floating on the water. A cloud rolled up
behind them, as big as a mountain. Upon it Elisa saw gigantic
shadows of herself and of the eleven swans. It was the most
splendid picture she had ever seen, but as the sun rose higher
the clouds grew small, and the shadow picture of their flight
disappeared.

All day they flew like arrows whipping through the
air, yet, because they had their sister to carry, they flew more
slowly than on their former journeys. Night was drawing near, and
a storm was rising. In terror, Elisa watched the sinking sun, for
the lonely rock was nowhere in sight. It seemed to her that the
swans beat their wings in the air more desperately. Alas it was
because of her that they could not fly fast enough. So soon as
the sun went down they would turn into men, and all of them would
pitch down into the sea and drown. She prayed to God from the
depths of her heart, but still no rock could be seen. Black
clouds gathered and great gusts told of the storm to come. The
threatening clouds came on as one tremendous wave that rolled
down toward them like a mass of lead, and flash upon flash of
lightning followed them. Then the sun touched the rim of the sea.
Elisa's heart beat madly as the swans shot down so fast that she
thought they were falling, but they checked their downward swoop.
Half of the sun was below the sea when she first saw the little
rock below them. It looked no larger than the head of a seal
jutting out of the water. The sun sank very fast. Now it was no
bigger than a star, but her foot touched solid ground. Then the
sun went out like the last spark on a piece of burning paper. She
saw her brothers stand about her, arm in arm, and there was only
just room enough for all of them. The waves beat upon the rock
and washed over them in a shower of spray. The heavens were lit
by constant flashes, and bolt upon bolt of thunder crashed. But
the sister and brothers clasped each other's hands and sang a
psalm, which comforted them and gave them courage.

At dawn the air was clear and still. As soon as
the sun came up, the swans flew off with Elisa and they left the
rock behind. The waves still tossed, and from the height where
they soared it looked as if the white flecks of foam against the
dark green waves were millions of white swans swimming upon the
waters.

When the sun rose higher, Elisa saw before her a
mountainous land, half floating in the air. Its peaks were capped
with sparkling ice, and in the middle rose a castle that was a
mile long, with one bold colonnade perched upon another. Down
below, palm trees swayed and brilliant flowers bloomed as big as
mill wheels. She asked if this was the land for which they were
bound, but the swans shook their heads. What she saw was the
gorgeous and ever changing palace of Fata Morgana. No mortal
being could venture to enter it. As Elisa stared at it, before
her eyes the mountains, palms, and palace faded away, and in
their place rose twenty splendid churches, all alike, with lofty
towers and pointed windows. She thought she heard the organ peal,
but it was the roll of the ocean she heard. When she came close
to the churches they turned into a fleet of ships sailing beneath
her, but when she looked down it was only a sea mist drifting
over the water.

Scene after scene shifted before her eyes until
she saw at last the real country whither they went. Mountains
rose before her beautifully blue, wooded with cedars, and studded
with cities and palaces. Long before sunset she was sitting on a
mountainside, in front of a large cave carpeted over with green
creepers so delicate that they looked like embroidery.

"We shall see what you'll dream of here tonight,"
her youngest brother said, as he showed her where she was to
sleep.

"I only wish I could dream how to set you free,"
she said.

This thought so completely absorbed her, and she
prayed so earnestly for the Lord to help her that even in her
sleep she kept on praying. It seemed to her that she was flying
aloft to the Fata Morgana palace of clouds. The fairy who came
out to meet her was fair and shining, yet she closely resembled
the old woman who gave her the berries in the forest and told her
of the swans who wore golden crowns on their heads.

"Your brothers can be set free," she said, "but
have you the courage and tenacity to do it? The sea water that
changes the shape of rough stones is indeed softer than your
delicate hands, but it cannot feel the pain that your fingers
will feel. It has no heart, so it cannot suffer the anguish and
heartache that you will have to endure. Do you see this stinging
nettle in my hand? Many such nettles grow around the cave where
you sleep. Only those and the ones that grow upon graves in the
churchyards may be used - remember that! Those you must
gather, although they will burn your hands to blisters. Crush the
nettles with your feet and you will have flax, which you must
spin and weave into eleven shirts of mail with long sleeves. Once
you throw these over the eleven wild swans, the spell over them
is broken. But keep this well in mind! From the moment you
undertake this task until it is done, even though it lasts for
years, you must not speak. The first word you say will strike
your brothers' hearts like a deadly knife. Their lives are at the
mercy of your tongue. Now, remember what I told you!"

She touched Elisa's hand with nettles that burned
like fire and awakened her. It was broad daylight, and close at
hand where she had been sleeping grew a nettle like those of
which she had dreamed. She thanked God upon her knees, and left
the cave to begin her task.

With her soft hands she took hold of the dreadful
nettles that seared like fire. Great blisters rose on her hands
and arms, but she endured it gladly in the hope that she could
free her beloved brothers. She crushed each nettle with her bare
feet, and spun the green flax.

When her brothers returned at sunset, it alarmed
them that she did not speak. They feared this was some new spell
cast by their wicked stepmother, but when they saw her hands they
understood that she laboured to save them. The youngest one wept,
and wherever his tears touched Elisa she felt no more
pain, and the burning blisters healed.

She toiled throughout the night, for she could not
rest until she had delivered her beloved brothers from the
enchantment. Throughout the next day, while the swans were gone
she sat all alone, but never had the time sped so quickly. One
shirt was made, and she set to work on the second one.

Then she heard the blast of a hunting horn on the
mountainside. It frightened her, for the sound came nearer until
she could hear the hounds bark. Terror-stricken, she ran
into the cave, bundled together the nettles she had gathered and
woven, and sat down on this bundle.

Immediately a big dog came bounding from the
thicket, followed by another, and still another, all barking
loudly as they ran to and fro. In a very few minutes all the
huntsmen stood in front of the cave. The most handsome of these
was the King of the land, and he came up to Elisa. Never before
had he seen a girl so beautiful. "My lovely child," he said,
"how do you come to be here?"

Elisa shook her head, for she did not dare to
speak. Her brothers' deliverance and their very lives depended
upon it, and she hid her hands under her apron to keep the King
from seeing how much she suffered.

"Come with me," he told her. "You cannot stay
here. If you are as good as you are fair I shall clothe you in
silk and velvet, set a golden crown upon your head, and give you
my finest palace to live in." Then he lifted her up on his horse.
When she wept and wrung her hands, the King told her, "My only
wish is to make you happy. Some day you will thank me for doing
this." Off through the mountains he spurred, holding her before
him on his horse as his huntsmen galloped behind them.

At sundown, his splendid city with all its towers
and domes lay before them. The King led her into his palace,
where great fountains played in the high marble halls, and where
both walls and ceilings were adorned with paintings. But she took
no notice of any of these things. She could only weep and grieve.
Indifferently, she let the women dress her in royal garments,
weave strings of pearls in her hair, and draw soft gloves over
her blistered fingers.

She was so dazzlingly beautiful in all this
splendor that the whole court bowed even deeper than before. And
the King chose her for his bride, although the archbishop shook
his head and whispered that this lovely maid of the woods must be
a witch, who had blinded their eyes and stolen the King's
heart.

But the King would not listen to him. He commanded
that music be played, the costliest dishes be served, and the
prettiest girls dance for her. She was shown through
sweet-scented gardens, and into magnificent halls, but
nothing could make her lips smile or her eyes sparkle. Sorrow had
set its seal upon them. At length the King opened the door to a
little chamber adjoining her bedroom. It was covered with
splendid green embroideries, and looked just like the cave in
which he had found her. On the floor lay the bundle of flax she
had spun from the nettles, and from the ceiling hung the shirt
she had already finished. One of the huntsmen had brought these
with him as curiosities.

"Here you may dream that you are back in your old
home," the King told her. Here is the work that you were doing
there, and surrounded by all your splendor here it may amuse you
to think of those times."

When Elisa saw these things that were so precious
to her, a smile trembled on her lips, and the blood rushed back
to her cheeks. The hope that she could free her brothers returned
to her, and she kissed the King's hand. He pressed her to his
heart and commanded that all the church bells peal to announce
their wedding. The beautiful mute girl from the forest was to be
the country's Queen.

The archbishop whispered evil words in the King's
ear, but they did not reach his heart. The wedding was to take
place. The archbishop himself had to place the crown on her head.
Out of spite, he forced the tight circlet so low on her
forehead that it hurt her. But a heavier band
encircled her heart, and; the sorrow she felt for her brothers
kept her from feeling any hurt of the flesh. Her lips were mute,
for one single word would mean death to her brothers, but her
eyes shone with love for the kind and handsome King who did his
best to please her. Every day she grew fonder and fonder of him
in her heart. Oh, if only she could confide in him, and tell him
what grieved her. But mute she must remain, and finish her task
in silence. So at night she would steal away from his side into
her little chamber which resembled the cave, and there she wove
one shirt after another, but when she set to work on the seventh
there was not enough flax left to finish it.

She knew that the nettles she must use grew in the
churchyard, but she had to gather them herself. How could
she go there?

"Oh, what is the pain in my fingers compared with
the anguish I feel in my heart!" she thought. "I must take the
risk, and the good Lord will not desert me."

As terrified as if she were doing some evil thing,
she tiptoed down into the moonlit garden, through the long alleys
and down the deserted streets to the churchyard. There she
saw a group of vampires sitting in a circle on one of the large
gravestones. These hideous ghouls took off their ragged clothes
as they were about to bathe. With skinny fingers they clawed open
the new graves. Greedily they snatched out the bodies and ate the
flesh from them. Elisa had to pass close to them, and they fixed
their vile eyes upon her, but she said a prayer, picked the
stinging nettles, and carried them back to the palace.

Only one man saw her-the archbishop. He was
awake while others slept. Now he had proof of what he had
suspected. There was something wrong with the Queen. She was a
witch, and that was how she had duped the King and all his
people.

In the confessional, he told the King what he had seen and what he feared. As the bitter words spewed from his
mouth, the images of the saints shook their heads, as much as to
say, He lies. Elisa is innocent." The archbishop, however, had a
different explanation for this. He said they were testifying
against her, and shaking their heads at her wickedness.

Two big tears rolled down the King's cheeks as he
went home with suspicion in his heart. That night he pretended to
be asleep, but no restful sleep touched his eyes. He watched
Elisa get out of bed. Every night he watched her get up and each
time he followed her quietly and saw her disappear into her
private little room. Day after day his frown deepened. Elisa saw
it, and could not understand why this should be, but it made her
anxious and added to the grief her heart already felt for her
brothers. Her hot tears fell down upon her queenly robes of
purple velvet. There they flashed like diamonds, and all who saw
this splendor wished that they were Queen.

Meanwhile she had almost completed her task. Only
one shirt was lacking, but again she ran out of flax. Not a
single nettle was left. Once more, for the last time, she must go
to the churchyard and pluck a few more handfuls. She thought with
fear of the lonely walk and the ghastly vampires, but her will
was as strong as her faith in God.

She went upon her mission, but the King and his
archbishop followed her. They saw her disappear through the iron
gates of the churchyard, and when they came in after her they saw
vampires sitting on a gravestone, just as Elisa had seen them.

The King turned away, for he thought Elisa was
among them -Elisa whose head had rested against his heart
that very evening.

"Let the people judge her," he said. And the
people did judge her. They condemned her to die by fire.

She was led from her splendid royal halls to a
dungeon, dark and damp, where the wind whistled in between the
window bars. Instead of silks and velvets they gave her for a
pillow the bundle of nettles she had gathered, and for her
coverlet the harsh, burning shirts of mail she had woven. But
they could have given her nothing that pleased her more.

She set to work again, and prayed. Outside, the
boys in the street sang jeering songs about her, and not one soul
came to comfort her with a kind word.

But toward evening she heard the rustle of a
swan's wings close to her window. It was her youngest brother who
had found her at last. She sobbed for joy. Though she knew that
this night was all too apt to be her last, the task was almost
done and her brothers were near her.

The archbishop came to stay with her during her
last hours on earth, for this much he had promised the King. But
she shook her head, and by her expression and gestures begged him
to leave. This was the last night she had to finish her task, or
it would all go for naught-all her pain, and her tears, and
her sleepless nights. The archbishop went away, saying cruel
things against her. But poor Elisa knew her own innocence, and
she kept on with her task.

The little mice ran about the floor, and brought
nettles to her feet, trying to help her all they could. And a
thrush perched near the bars of her window to sing the whole
night through, as merrily as he could, so that she would keep up
her courage.

It was still in the early dawn, an hour before
sunrise, when the eleven brothers reached the palace gates and
demanded to see the King. This, they were told, was impossible.
It was still night. The King was asleep and could not be
disturbed. They begged and threatened so loudly that the guard
turned out, and even the King came running to find what the
trouble was. But at that instant the sun rose, and the eleven
brothers vanished. Eleven swans were seen flying over the
palace.

All the townsmen went flocking out through the
town gates, for they wanted to see the witch burned. A decrepit
old horse pulled the cart in which Elisa sat. They had dressed
her in coarse sackcloth, and all her lovely long hair hung loose
around her beautiful head. Her cheeks were deathly pale, and her
lips moved in silent prayer as her fingers twisted the green
flax. Even on her way to death she did not stop her still
un-finished work. Ten shirts lay at her feet and she worked away
on the eleventh. "See how the witch mumbles," the mob scoffed
at her. "That's no psalm book in her hands. No, there she sits,
nursing her filthy sorcery. Snatch it away from her, and tear it
to bits!"

The crowd of people closed in to destroy all her
work, but before they could reach her, eleven white swans flew
down and made a ring around the cart with their flapping wings.
The mob drew back in terror.

"It is a sign from Heaven. She must be innocent,"
many people whispered. But no one dared say it aloud.

As the executioner seized her arm, she made haste
to throw the eleven shirts over the swans, who instantly became
eleven handsome Princes. But the youngest brother still had a
swan's wing in place of one arm, where a sleeve was missing
from his shirt. Elisa had not quite been able to finish it.

"Now," she cried, "I may speak! I am
innocent."

All the people who saw what had happened bowed
down to her as they would before a saint. But the strain, the
anguish, and the suffering had been too much for her to bear, and
she fell into her brothers' arms as if all life had gone out of
her.

"She is innocent indeed!" said her eldest brother,
and he told them all that had happened. And while he spoke, the
scent of a million roses filled the air, for every piece of wood
that they had piled up to burn her had taken root and grown
branches. There stood a great high hedge, covered with red and
fragrant roses. At the very top a single pure white flower shone
like a star. The King plucked it and put it on Elisa's breast.
And she awoke, with peace and happiness in her heart.

All the church bells began to ring of their own
accord, and the air was filled with birds. Back to the palace
went a bridal procession such as no King had ever enjoyed
before.